


Cocky

by Hunter Stu (stunudo)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-28 03:47:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20419397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stunudo/pseuds/Hunter%20Stu
Summary: This was originally posted ages ago on my tumblr. Have some post-hunt smut. xoxo





	Cocky

The cloudless night sky encased the Impala as the Winchester brothers barreled down the back roads. Dean was rolling the radio dial to find a local classic rock station as Sam was reading an article on his phone. They had just finished up a case in Utah and were headed back to Kansas and their bunker home. Their phones buzzed at the same time, alerting them both meant that it was likely another hunter.

“It’s Y/N, she’s outside of Omaha and wants some help with a vamp nest.” Sam paraphrased for Dean.

“Christ, where’s she been?!” Dean chuckled. “When was the last time we saw her?”

Sam was shaking his head as he texted their fellow hunter back. “I don’t know man. The last time I remember seeing her is when we were on the lamb with the Leviathans posing as us.”

Dean was thinking, he rubbed his bottom lip. “What? No, I’ve seen her since then, I mean. Oh shit.”

“What?”

“Dude, I think I saw her as demon-me.” Dean stared at his brother’s slowly smirking face.

“And?” Sam insinuated.

Dean rolled his eyes, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay, sure. We’re just going to decapitate some vampires with her, might as well go in with awkward all over you.”

“Crowley was being Crowley, a dick. I think the phrase ‘last season’s bachelor reject’ may have been used?” Dean shrugged, comic worry on his chiseled features.

“Nice, Dean. No wonder she texted me, too.” Sam shook his long hair and called Y/N for the details.

^*^*^

You weren’t as die hard a hunter as the Winchesters, but you were just as skilled with a machete. It was more of a hobby for your family than a way of life. Which meant you had a solid home life growing up, but were constantly teased for being a “tourist”, first by John and then his sons. Sam had always romanticized the way your family did things, but he was young and naive then. Now that he towered over practically everyone else and had been jaded by every big bad out there, he respected you.

Then there was Dean. To say that Dean and you had a complicated relationship would be an understatement. You had your heart set on him from the moment his smooth talk fell upon your teenaged ears. John and your dad had other plans. Then John disappeared and some how Dean had run into Jo Harvelle. There weren’t many young female hunters, so you knew to keep your hands off. If not for fear of Jo’s knife work, for fear of her mom’s retribution. Ellen Harvelle was not someone you wanted to piss off.

It wasn’t until Bobby told you that Sam was gone and Dean had left the life behind for a yoga instructor that you were finally over your crush. Hunters didn’t want relationships, they wanted a quick escape in a seedy motel once or twice. Which brings you to now, where you were watching as teenagers disappeared once every other week from a corn-fed town. You tended to cover the Colorado cases, but you worked freelance, might as well travel while you were still young.

^*^*^

“How many are we looking at, Y/N?” Sam was half in the trunk of the old Chevy, bagging the various knives they had with them. Dean was leaning against the rear door, rather quieter than usual.

“I have counted 5 for certain, but with the amount of kids missing?” You shrugged, hands in the back pockets of your jeans. “Could be changing them and not just taking them to dinner.”

“How’d you hear about this? I thought you liked the mountain air, Y/N?” Dean teased, his strong arms crossed over his chest.

“I can read, dumb ass. This many teenagers and cattle go missing, its either vamps or demons. Besides, it was time to stretch my legs. Didn’t want my reputation to rust now would I?”

Sam grinned, “There’s not many who would question a Y/L/N’s skills, Y/N.”

“Those that do are amateurs anyway. You look good, Y/N. Glad to be back in action?” Dean smiled, balancing his machete on his collar bone. You strolled between the brothers, toward the old feed mill. Your twelve inch knife was in a hip holster and you had a back up in a pocket on your knee high boots. It was time to roll some heads.

^*^*^*^

The nest was massive for a town this small, you and Dean had made it through the living quarters by sheer dumb luck. Sam had gotten separated, so you and Dean were doubling back. You counted twelve vamps dead so far.

“You know who we should have called?” Sam jumped out at Dean, panting. Dean shoved his little brother in jest.

“Don’t say it Sammy, you know she’ll call us if wants to hunt with us.” Dean got serious suddenly.

“You guys got a new chick in your lives? Surprise, surprise.” You teased.

“You get to explain it now, smart ass.” Dean waved Sam in like a presenter at some fancy award show.

“Actually, it’s, uh, well I was talking about our mom.” Sam’s concerned forehead told you he wasn’t joking.

“Your mom, as in killed by old yellow eyes himself, Mary Winchester?” You were floored.

“The very same.” Dean looked sidelong, his green eyes peeking out under his brows.

“Well,” You sighed, not quite wrapping your head around the idea, “it seems you guys have majority shareholdings in resurrection, don’t ya?”

Sam barked a laugh, nodding at your point. “So? We calling it? I haven’t seen anything move in a good fifteen minutes.”

“Yeah, we’re good. I need a shower.” Dean rolled his shoulders and led the way back to his treasured car.

^*^*^

You sat in the guys’ hotel room nursing a beer. Dean was in the shower and Sam was figuring out what to order in.

“So, we got twenty minutes to kill until the Chinese place will have our food ready.” Sam leaned back on the bed, laptop in hand. “What have you been up to?”

“Not much, hunting has been off the last few years. I go out alone most of the time. My dad’s getting achy and my cousins all make excuses because they have kids now.” You shrugged, finishing the beer. “Work comes and goes, freelance is still easiest for me.”

“So, you ever think about settling down? Your family seems to balance the life the best.”

“Don’t I know it. I guess I just didn’t think I would want kids, but eventually, maybe. If I can find a poor sap that doesn’t expect me in the kitchen.” You admitted. “What about you? The Campbells had a reputation as a grounded family too, ya know.”

“I thought I did, hell even Dean tried it for a while. But we’re too extreme. Hunting is what we do. Now with our mom back, it just seems like it is what we were destined to be.”

“I always thought you were going to get out, Sammy. I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you.” You felt nostalgic for the little kid that spent more time researching than any tween should have.

“Hey, I’m still standing. No complaints at the moment.” Sam checked his watch. “I’m going to head out to grab dinner, you sticking around?”

“If you’re buying, you bet I’m staying. Grab another case of beer too, while you’re at it.” You laughed, plopping down on the other bed, remote in hand.

Sam chuckled gently and slid into his coat. You didn’t notice that the shower was no longer running.

^*^*^

Dean walked out of the bathroom with a towel barely cinched around his waist. His wide shoulders muscled and scarred. He walked calmly across the room to his duffle bag, his damp skin calling to you. You bit your bottom lip, holding in the cat call that would only fuel this stubborn man’s arrogance.

“Where’s Sammy?” Dean asked, digging through his collection of clothes.

“Grabbing the grub and some more beer, hopefully.” You tried to pin your eyes on to the television screen but all that was on was basketball or the news. You focused on the local weather girl like your life depended on it.

“Y/N?” Dean called casually. You glance over to see him completely naked, your eyes bulge and your cheeks burn with your blush. You laugh nervously.

“Very funny Winchester, put on some clothes.” You go back to staring at the screen, 0% APR for four years, you say random announcer guy?

“No, but seriously now. Y/N?” You roll your eyes and kick your feet to the side of the bed, facing him full on. He is still standing there in all his chiseled glory. The anti-possession tattoo a target on the crest of his pec. You want to bite him right there, but wouldn’t endanger him that way. You are staring at him now, eyes burning and chest heaving.

“Happy? Happy, you got me blushing like some teenage ditz?” You were close to yelling at him. God he was infuriating, that’s something that never changed.

“Maybe?” Dean grinned, damn was he handsome. And he knew it. “To be honest, I would feel a lot better if you were naked too.”

“Are you asking or telling?”

Dean raised an eyebrow, calculating your fuse. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s a request. We both know you’re the one in charge here.”

Slowly you walked toward Dean, this man that had been an object of your desire since before you put words to it. You didn’t even know where you were going until your hand was creeping up his thigh. You held his gaze as your smooth fingertips slid up his body. He flinched slightly, giving you his ticklish weakness. But before you could comment, his mouth had crashed on to yours.

His stubble scratched your face, but his lips were tender. His shower wet skin slipped through your hands as your pulled yourself to his chest, digging into his strong back with your short nails. Dean’s hands were cupping your jaw and pulling the small of your back to him. His growing length was rubbing against your abdomen.

Your body was reacting to his every touch, your core pooling with want. Dean’s gruff voice whispered to you, sending shivers down your spine. “Y/N, we don’t have much time.” His large hands slid off your shirt, expertly unclasping your bra. You fiddled with your belt and fly, realizing all too late that you still had your knee high boots on. Dean was teasing your nipples with his thumbs.

“Dean, we’re going to have to improvise, these suckers don’t come off easy.” Dean looked down, appraising your footwear. He nodded, grabbing you by the hips and carrying you to the nearest bed. You shimmied your jeans down as far as they would go. Dean slid on a condom he had pulled oh so slyly from his bag. You knelt onto the bed and crawled towards the pillows.

“Right there, Y/N, don’t move.” Dean’s scruff covered face leaned down and kissed your ass cheek. His large calloused hands traced the curve of your hips and locked on to your waist. His larger body centered behind you and you shivered in anticipation. He nudged your wet folds with his cock, teasing you as he hummed in appreciation.

“Dean?” You wiggled your hips back, whimpering for entry. “Please?”

“That’s why they call it the magic word, sweetheart.” Dean inched inside of you, spreading your walls with his impressive girth. You sighed as he filled you. It was a deep penetration at an unimaginably perfect angle. Your legs were pinned by your pants, like handcuffs locking your knees. Dean had one leg on the bed while he stood on the floor with the other. As the rhythm increased, you dropped to your elbows, your aching nipples bushing against the stiff comforter.

Dean’s hands were caressing your sides, inching around the curve of each breast before retreating to your waist. Each stroke, getting closer, each thrust pushing your further. His skilled hand reached in between your thighs, dancing across your clit with his fingertips. The pulsing in your center was becoming unbearable, you tugged at your nipple, driving the over-stimulation through you. Your walls clamped down on Dean’s cock, the orgasm hovering just out of reach. His deep voice urged you onward, “Y/N, god, you feel amazing,”. His steady hand worked your clit with each syllable. And you were done, your body shook with pleasure as your climax drew Dean deeper inside of you.

His deep thrusts refocused as you called his name, again and again. His thumbs were digging into the small of your back as you met his momentum. His strong form pearled with sweat as the slapping of skin overtook the infomercials in the background. “Fuck, Dean, oh myyyyyyy.” You pitched forward, burying your head in the pillows, your ass on full display. Your body couldn’t support itself any longer, you were reaching another summit. Dean doubled up his speed and suddenly he moaned, a deep guttural sound that sent your thighs quivering.

“Damn, Y/N.” Dean exhaled, slowing down his pumping. His face fell between your shoulder blades, his whiskers scratching your highly sensitized skin. He placed sloppy kisses down your back, palming your ass as he retreated from your heat. “I’m gonna, hop back in the shower. I’ll let you get redressed.”

Before he got away your stood on shaking legs, “Not so fast, Winchester.” You curled your index finger to him. He leaned down as you kissed him fiercely on the mouth, taking a handful of his ass in the process. He tweaked your nipple and turned back towards the bathroom.

Sam fumbled in the door with a grocery sized bag of Chinese and a 30 pack of Margiekugels. You stood there topless, refastening your belt. You nodded at the tall man and turned to grab your bra.

“Always on my goddamn bed, Dean!” The younger brother huffed, you smirked.


End file.
